The Queen of the Underverse - Chapter 20
- Donovan Evans-Foto Dono
- 12 minutes ago
- 13 min read
A Note from Foto Dono: One has become two — I’ve split the book!
After hearing from several readers (and staring at a 157,746-word monster), I realized The Last Queen of the Underverseneeded room to breathe. So now there are two volumes.
Book 1: The Queen’s Saga
Word count so far: 74,763 and counting.
It will end with Chapter 24 – “We Break Promises, Memories Break Us,” followed by an Interlude and Epilogue. I’m aiming to have it ready for publication by December 16 (ish). The Final Version of Book 1 is now available for pre-order at $9.99 — for a limited time!
Everyone who’s already bought the Beta Version will receive a free copy of the finished Book 1.
Thank you to everyone who’s been following Rebecca’s journey through the Underverse.
-Foto Dono
— Yuunral Naretar: Oh, don't worry — I already wrote the Epilogue. I'll make sure it gets in while he's sleeping.
Previously on The Queen of the Underverse…
Commander Rebecca Lopez, an American astronaut lost in space, stepped through the Doorwhere from Everywhere and found herself trapped in the Underverse — a realm built on memory, myth, and madness.
Along her quest to find a way home, she’s met an unforgettable company: a woman made of marble, a half-lizard Provider, a symbiotic blanket, and a handful of younglings who shouldn’t exist at all. But one — a little girl named S’Rah — has taken root in her heart.
And S’Rah isn’t even real. She’s a memory.
Now the darkness that first hunted Rebecca in the void has found her again — stalking the streets of Amberford, a city built on the trade of people’s memories.
Ye saga continues…
Book 1 - The Queen's Saga - Chapter 20 - Lost In The Dark
“Well, that was a bust,” Chalky said to the firecloak as she drove down the cobblestone streets of Amberford. She had shouted a few times for everyone to get out of the way—the aethercycle tended to drift sideways every so often.
“You know, you didn’t do this when Rebecca was driving.” She thumped the handlebars, and the machine rumbled at her. “Sorry, I’m just frustrated. I’ll concentrate.”
The City Guard hadn’t heard of Rebecca or anyone matching her description. The only thing Chalky had managed to learn was that mercenaries had attacked a Provider’s group outside of town earlier last night. It was Shean’s group—but luckily, Shean had come out on top. Lyrie had filed the report.
“Lyrie,” she whispered softly. “She didn’t mention anything about last night.” Of course, she and Lyrie weren’t the best at communicating, but she still wished things were a bit clearer between them.
“You know, firecloak, I don’t think it was a bust.” She looked at it lying in the bottom of the sidecar.
“Oh, don’t be like that—I’m not that bad of a driver.”
She thought she saw it tremble. “Oh, for Lyra’s Light.” The wind kept whipping her fine obsidian hair into her mouth, and she brushed it aside.
“Listen, I think we should head to Shean’s and see what’s up. I bet that Earth girl got mixed up in that trouble.”
She swerved to miss a lamppost that jumped in front of her. “It’s like she attracts it.” She laughed.
“Lyra always had a knack for that herself. She managed to get out of it, though.” She sighed. “Well, mostly.”
She looked down at firecloak. “It wasn’t that long ago—before she knew she was dying—she ‘borrowed’ something from the Patchlord.” Firecloak shifted on the floor as she raised her hands in air quotes, and the aethercycle began to slide.
“I’m certain she fully intended to return it. But once he realized it was gone, he was far from pleased. Naturally, he confronted her in her dreams, insisting she give back the item she’d disturbed or be trapped forever in a labyrinth. And, of course, Lyra pulled me along with her in her sleep—just because I happened to be lying beside her that night.” She chuckled softly at the memory before steering away from a building that appeared out of nowhere.
She looked back at firecloak, which had somehow rolled itself into a ball at the bottom of the sidecar. “Look, it’s not that bad if you’re up and watching. Poke your head up—or whatever it is you use.”
She quickly shook her head with a small laugh. “Where was I? Oh yes—the labyrinth. But not the Big Labyrinth; you’d never catch me there. The FuGazzi scare the schist out of me.” A shudder ran through her.
“Still, with her quick wit, a touch of charm, and a whole lot of stubbornness, Lyra skillfully navigated us through the maze and managed to find our way out—well, most of the way. I never did find out what she borrowed,” she mused, dodging a small potted plant on the sidewalk before coaxing the aethercycle back onto the road.
Firecloak peeked over the sidecar just as a cabbage vendor’s cart nearly clipped it. It immediately dropped back to the floor.
Chalky smiled to herself as she turned the corner past the entrance to the Mercantile Bazaar. She chuckled softly. “You know you’re giving security blankets a bad name.”
S’Rah and Rebecca continued shopping a bit longer before stopping to enjoy lunch from one of the food vendors. S’Rah mentioned that the dish was made with the meat of a woodland creature — furry, with beady, diamond-like eyes. It sounded almost like one of the Gnomes Rebecca had met, though this creature had six tails and two heads — so definitely no relation.
Rebecca hesitated, taking a few tentative bites, pausing when S’Rah quipped, “Just wait until you get to the eyes — they’re the best part.” For a moment, she almost spit it out before realizing S’Rah was joking. Yep, she was definitely like Mitchel.
They left the Bazaar and headed back toward the Provider’s Home. Earlier, vendors near the entrance had been gossiping about a vehicle that had raced down the sidewalk. One of them was still gathering up cabbages that had fallen from his cart, muttering, “It’s the same in every place — no respect for cabbages!”
Rebecca and S’Rah laughed as they passed.
S’Rah reached out and took Rebecca’s hand. “You know, I honestly don’t know how much time I have left. I suppose that’s true for most of us, really.”
Rebecca tightened her grip.
S’Rah kept looking ahead. “I’ve only been alive for less than a year — longer than most. Toby’s the oldest; he’s been alive for over a year.”
She glanced at the ground and let Rebecca lead the way. “Nyssa was just three months old, and she looked about my age. She faded away before the trip — that’s actually why Shean decided to take us out, where you met us.”
“I was afraid that with part of my horn gone,” she touched the seam where it had been reattached, “I’d be next.”
“Then I met you — and you saved me. You treated me like a person. You treated the younglings like, well, younglings. Even after you learned the truth.” S’Rah looked up at her.
“I just wanted to say thank you — before you move on to find your family.” She bit her lower lip but smiled all the same.
Rebecca gazed at the girl who, in less than twenty-four hours — or whatever passed for a day here — had found a special place in her heart. She thought S’Rah was brilliant, amazing, everything a parent could hope for in a child. The girl’s spirit reminded her so much of her daughter, and of Paul a little, which made her heart both warm and ache. She wanted to help her, to protect her somehow — just like Mark’s heroine would in his stories. She only wished she knew how.
S’Rah gave her one of her lopsided smiles. “Memories fade, Rebecca. That’s okay. I only wish I could be around a little longer — to see what happens next.” She stared out into the street.
The words came tumbling out of Rebecca before she realized she was speaking. “I had a grandfather — my dad’s father — who used to tell me stories before bed. He’d make them up himself, and even when I was too old for bedtime stories, he’d still tell them.” Rebecca smiled at the memory.
She looked away, as if seeing something unpleasant. “Then he got sick and started losing his memories. He lost himself with them. Eventually, he died — not even remembering me. He faded away. I wish I had saved those stories.”
S’Rah’s hand tightened around hers.
“My friend Sarah — she’s the one who calls me Becks — was my only family for a while after that. In time, I added to my family. My husband, Mark, is a storyteller too. When I get back, I’m going to tell him your story. He’ll write it down for me. That way, if I ever get sick like my grandfather, there’ll always be a story of S’Rah for my children to have.”
They walked in silence for a while, still holding hands, not meeting each other’s eyes. Finally, S’Rah said, “Is it all right if I call you Becks?”
“Yep. All my friends do — except Shean. He’s too grumpy.”
They laughed, and after that, they spent the rest of the walk competing to see who could do the worst imitation of Shean.
“There you are! I’ve been looking for you, Rebecca!” Kai said, breathless, as if he’d been running. Rebecca and S’Rah had just turned a corner when he burst from an alley in front of them. He stopped, hands on his knees, gasping.
“Kai?” Startled, Rebecca stepped back. S’Rah stayed close behind her.
“Wait—” he panted, “just a second—let me—catch—my—breath.” Kai took deep gulps of air and leaned against the wall.
“What the hell, Kai? Is something wrong?” She glared at him.
He held up his hands, still trying to breathe.
“Oh, for chrissakes, Kai! What’s going on?”
“Earth!” he blurted between gasps.
Rebecca blinked. “What?”
“I found a way to Earth.” Finally catching his breath, he straightened.
“You’d better not be joking, Kai—I can pound you into next Sunday.”
“I’m not sure what that means, but I found a connection to Earth just outside the city. According to a book in my family archive, it’s right in the middle of the FuGazzi Labyrinth.”
Rebecca rubbed her temple. “I have to enter a labyrinth? That doesn’t sound good.”
“Well, no—it isn’t safe,” Kai admitted. “But it’s a way home. The book even includes a map.”
“A map? Any shortcuts?” she asked hopefully.
“I’ve no idea. I found it among my ancestor’s records about Queen Lyra—she used it once to send someone to Earth.” His tone turned defensive.
“Hey, look, I appreciate it, but why the rush?”
“Oh well,” Kai looked sheepish. “I thought maybe you could…” He trailed off, face reddening, mumbling.
“What?”
“Tell Shean how fast and what a good job I did.” Kai gave her puppy-dog eyes.
Yep—not boyfriend material. “Fine, I’ll tell him. But seriously, why run all the way here? You could’ve waited.”
“Ah, I see…” His smile shifted. “I just needed a little distraction for Asher.”
The light in his eyes darkened; his grin sharpened. His voice changed—lower, older, familiar, like something pulled from a nightmare. “I’ve been waiting for you, Human.”
A sound behind her—heavy footsteps. When she looked, she saw a man standing there, holding an unconscious S’Rah over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing, smiling. Rebecca started to rush toward him when a hand clamped down on her shoulder.
She collapsed to her knees, gasping. A familiar blackness crept up her limbs like ice in her blood.
The darkness took her.
Chalky slid the aethercycle up to the Provider’s Home, and Shean ran and managed to knock over a few rubbish bins someone had placed in her way.
“Are you coming with me?” she asked.
The firecloak lay motionless, apparently content to stay put.
“Suit yourself.”
She stared up at the Home. “That’s odd. Why’s the door open?”
A voice shouted, “You!”
She turned and saw Lyrie striding up the sidewalk in her usual patchwork getup.
“You!” Chalky’s eyes narrowed.
Both spoke at once: “What are you doing here?” Then, “You first!”
They glared at each other.
“I’m here because of the report,” Chalky said.
“Well, you’re a menace on that thing. Of course I reported it.” Lyrie huffed.
“No, you half-baked wizard—the report about what happened with Shean last night.”
“Oh. That.”
“Yes, that! And what do you mean you reported me? I’m an excellent driver!”
“I think half the city would beg to differ.”
They glared again, the air practically crackling between them.
Chalky pointed toward the open door. “Why’s the front door open?”
Lyrie’s expression changed. Concern flickered across her face as she studied the air around the doorway.
“The wards are down.”
Chalky’s stomach dropped. “The younglings. Shean.”
“Stay behind me,” Lyrie ordered. “Let’s check.”
They stepped inside cautiously. The place was in disarray—the stairs torn apart, holes punched through the hallway walls.
“I’ll check the bedrooms. Shean was in the clinic downstairs.” With that, Lyrie floated up to the second floor.
“Sure, send the marble girl into the trap,” Chalky muttered, continuing forward anyway. She found Shean not in the clinic, but in the kitchen—lying on the table, a gaping hole in his chest where his heart should have been.
“Dip me in vinegar.”
Lyrie drifted down moments later, eyes widening at the scene. “Typical. I patch you up one night, and the next morning you’re disassembled like a clock.”
“Lyrie—he’s dead.”
“Well, mostly dead. They didn’t get his brain—idiots. Chameloids are difficult to kill. You have to hit them in the head or cut that part off.” She huffed at Shean. “I’ll be back. He’s got a spare in the clinic.”
“Of course he does,” Chalky muttered, collapsing into a chair. She noticed the table was set with a placemat, plate, and cutlery—now all splattered with blood. She backed away, unsettled. Did they eat his heart?
Lyrie returned with a gold box etched in sigils and runes. She placed it over Shean’s chest and began tracing new sigils in the air. “At least you kept your backup heart safe, idiot.”
The box dissolved, and a heart of soft golden light floated up and slid neatly into place within the empty cavity.
“Is he going to be all right?” Chalky asked quietly.
“You need to be quiet. This is difficult without you yammering. Go talk to the neighbors and see what they know.”
Chalky glared at her. She always makes me glare at her. I could have so polished her the wrong way.
She stepped outside, knocking on a few nearby doors. Two neighbors tried to sell her something, another thought she was selling them something—it was best not to think about it. Finally, she found one who told her the Memory Merchants had raided the house.
When she returned, Shean was bandaged and groggy but alive. Lyrie sat slumped in a chair, looking spent.
“Looks like I’m pouring salt on the wounds here,” Chalky muttered. “I found out what happened—the younglings were taken in a Memory Market raid.”
Lyrie sighed. “Well, Mr. Irresistible here was attacked by his boyfriend. Judging from the mess, he ate his heart.”
Shean groaned. “He’s not mah boyfriend. We dated maybe twelve times.”
Lyrie scowled. “You need better taste in men.”
Shean grimaced, rubbing the fresh scar over his heart. The silence that followed was heavy. Even Lyrie didn’t rush to fill it. Blood was still drying on the placemat.
Then she added quietly, “Maybe someone like Rebecca—she fights back. Someone who’ll kill to save the younglings.”
Chalky, who’d been staring at the red-streaked tiles, snapped her head up. “What, Rebecca? My Rebecca? The Earth girl?”
Shean perked up slightly. “Yeah, Rebecca. She helped save da younglings.”
He and Lyrie quickly filled her in on Rebecca’s adventures after Chalky had left her.
“So why did Kai attack you—and why the raid?”
“It’s not Kai, or whatever he’s calling himself.” Shean’s tone hardened. “Shadow-like tendrils shot out from him. My Kai was a sweet soul.” He drew in a shaky breath. “This thing—whatever it was—just wore him.”
Lyrie frowned. “You mean something was masquerading as Kai?”
Shean nodded. “He said Kai didn’t even have time ta scream before it took him.”
Chalky went pale—or as pale as marble could get. “The Dente Nocturn.”
Lyrie turned to her. “Wait—you mean that Dente? From the stories?”
“Well, Rebecca said it was all darkness and teeth—and it gave her nightmares.” Shean’s voice dropped. “It was like da darkness had swallowed her.”
Lyrie tilted her head, thinking. “Sounds like one of the old stories.” She turned to Chalky, but Chalky wasn’t listening.
“It can’t be,” Chalky murmured. “It’s still trapped in the void… it should be. Lyra said it would be hunting—but how could it get out?” Her marble fingers tightened around the edge of the table.
Shean watched her, concern replacing irritation. “He said he was after da ‘main course.’ Kept calling her da human.”
Chalky didn’t seem to hear him. She was muttering to herself about teeth and darkness—about Lyra and Rebecca.
Lyrie raised an eyebrow. “Well, she’s finally cracked.”
“That’s enough, Lyrie.” Shean’s voice carried a sharp edge. “We need ta bring da younglings back before da Merchants process ’em. I’ll reach out ta mah contacts on da council—see if I kin persuade dem ta pause da auctions. Together, we kin keep everyone safe.”
He looked toward Chalky. “Yer friend should be back any moment. She stepped out with S’Rah.”
Lyrie gasped.
“With protection,” Shean added quickly, glaring at her. “And she’s the strongest woman in da Underverse I’ve ever seen—well, ’cept for Queen Lyra.”
Chalky slowly shook her head. “Nope. She’s not coming back.”
Lyrie frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Kai planned this,” Chalky said, her tone flat. “He’s had days—maybe longer—to set the pieces. Some twist of luck—or fate—put him exactly where he needed to be. He had access to the Memory Orphans. And with Earth Girl’s knack for stepping into trouble…” she exhaled, “she was bound to run right into him. Looks like she ran into all of you.”
She glanced between them. “He has her. And the other one—S’Rah?”
Shean gave a solemn nod.
Chalky went quiet. “I just don’t know why.”
An uneasy silence settled over the room. The air felt heavier, as though even the walls were holding their breath.
Lyrie finally broke it. “So you’re saying the Dente Nocturn from the stories… that it’s real?”
Chalky didn’t answer right away. When she did, her voice was low and sure. “Yes. It’s real. Just like Queen Lyra said. The Underverse isn’t ending—” she looked up, obsidian eyes glinting “—it’s being reborn.”
Shean rolled his eyes. “Da world ain’t endin’, Chalky. We’ve seen worse.”
Chalky gave a bitter laugh. “Not ending. Rebirth. It’s messier.”
Lyrie and Shean exchanged a look—uncertainty creeping in where sarcasm used to live.
Chalky stood, the chair scraping across the floor. “I’m going to the Memory Farm. That’s where he’s headed—Kai, the Dente, whatever he is. And if there’s a chance to save her, or the younglings, I’m taking it.” She turned toward the door. “I could use some help.”
“I’ll go with you,” Lyrie said, rising with more conviction than she’d shown all day. “You’ll need magic against a nightmare.”
She glanced at Shean. “And you’re in no shape to help anyone. You’re still stitched together with spells and stubbornness. You’re staying at my place. Watch my lot.”
Shean opened his mouth to protest, but winced before the words escaped. “Fine. But I’m reachin’ out ta mah council contacts. Somebody’s gotta slow da Merchants down.”
He looked up at Chalky, voice quieter now. “How much magic ya got left?”
Chalky raised an eyebrow. “I’m made of living marble, Shean. I am magic.”
He managed a grin. “Take my ManaShard pistol. I was tryin’ ta grab it before…” He rubbed the scar over his heart. “…before Kai got to me.”
He nodded toward a nearby cupboard. “Think of Queen Lyra’s Eyes—it’ll open.”
Chalky gave a fierce smile. “Right.”
She stepped toward the cupboard, pausing just long enough to glance back at them. “Does anyone even know where the Memory Farm actually is?”
Neither answered.
Outside, the wind moaned through Amberford’s empty streets—like the city itself had heard her question and didn’t dare reply.
––To be continued
Next Time on The Queen of the Underverse…
Rebecca has been captured by Kai.
The Memory Orphans have been reclaimed by the Memory Merchants.
Things aren’t looking good for Rebecca — and what will become of her new friend, S’Rah?
Don’t miss Chapter 21 - The Memory Farm™ Memories Made Fresh™
Click here to pre-order ➡️ BOOK ONE available.
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© 2025 Donnavon Evans
November 4, 2025
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